Zarvon opened his eyes to a dark cave ceiling above him, pain hitting every part of his body at once along with a thirst burning his throat. He tried to remember what happened before this—traffic lights, a truck flashing, the screech of brakes, then darkness—and now he was here, somewhere clearly not a hospital, with a body that felt strange and heavy.
When he tried to get up, his palms pressed against the cold cave floor, and he saw his skin now dark like cooled embers, his nails long and curved. When his hand touched his head, two hard bumps pressed into his palm. Horns. Fucking horns.
"What the hell?" he muttered, his voice coming out rougher and deeper than usual, almost unrecognizable.
A transparent window suddenly appeared in front of him, floating with letters that seemed to wait for him to read them.
[Purity Stealer System Activated]
[Host: Zarvon (Designated: Demon King, Rank: Low)]
[First Mission: Steal the purity of Sister Lysara – Village Priestess]
[Reward: Skill "Aroma of Seduction", 200 PP]
[Warning: Failure to complete mission within 7 days will result in death.]
Zarvon stared at the window for a few seconds, blinked, then let out a long sigh. "Of course. Die, wake up as a demon king, get a system that tells me to steal a priestess's virginity. Just my luck."
But his thirst wasn't just for water—he could feel it, an emptiness gnawing inside, craving something more, and the system seemed to point his mind in one direction. He looked toward the cave entrance, where moonlight filtered through the rocks, and in the distance, between the towering trees, a small chapel stood with candlelight flickering behind its windows.
"A priestess," Zarvon muttered as he forced himself to stand, his legs shaky because he still wasn't used to this new body. "Alright. Might as well try. Worst case, I die again."
He stepped out of the cave, the night air hitting him with a chill that bit through his skin, and under the pale moonlight the chapel looked like a place sealed off from the world—old, lonely, but warm because of the candles inside. He walked closer, and he felt his heartbeat faster than it should. Not fear. Maybe curiosity. Or the system pushing him with that thirst he couldn't explain.
When he reached the half‑open door, he leaned in, peeking, and there at the altar a young woman knelt in a slightly wrinkled white robe, long brown hair loose over her shoulders, eyes closed in deep prayer. Zarvon swallowed.
"Fuck it," he whispered. "Once crazy, once dead."
He pushed the door open slowly, his boots creaking on the old wooden floor, and the woman spun around, her eyes going wide when she saw the demon with horns and red eyes standing before her.
"A demon?!" she—Lysara, the system told him—stumbled back, legs trembling, clutching the cross around her neck. "Stay away! This place is holy!"
Zarvon raised both hands, trying to look non‑threatening despite his appearance. "Easy, easy. I'm not gonna bite. Just thirsty."
"Thirsty?" Lysara was confused but still wary. "There's water behind the chapel, take it and leave!"
"It's not water I'm thirsty for," Zarvon said as he stepped closer, and he noticed how Lysara's body stiffened, her breath quickening, and he couldn't help a small smile because there was something funny about this situation. "But before that, I'm curious. A pretty priestess like you, why are you alone here in the middle of the night?"
Lysara bit her lower lip, clearly not ready for that question. "I… I'm guarding the chapel. It's my duty."
"Guarding?" Zarvon raised an eyebrow. "Or hiding from the village gossips? From the men who look at you like wolves looking at a sheep?"
Lysara's face flushed, and she backed up until her back hit the altar. "You… you don't know anything about me!"
"I know your eyes," Zarvon said, now standing right in front of her, close enough to smell the soap and wood on her, and he could see clearly how her brown eyes darted nervously. "Eyes that are tired. Eyes that want to run. I used to have eyes like that."
Lysara stared at him, fear and curiosity mixing. "You're… a demon. Why are you here?"
"I died and woke up in a cave near here, and now a system tells me to steal something from you." Zarvon spoke casually, watching her expression shift from fear to confusion. "Honestly, I don't really get it either. All I know is I'm thirsty, and for some reason, you make me even thirstier."
Lysara swallowed, her voice almost a whisper. "What… what do you want from me?"
"Be honest," Zarvon leaned in a little, just enough to make her press further against the altar. "When you're alone here at night, what do you imagine? Whose lips touch your neck? Whose hands stroke your back?"
Lysara closed her eyes, her chest rising and falling fast, tears beginning to fall from the corners of her eyes. "I… I don't know… I just… want someone to see me… not as a priestess… but as…"
"As a woman," Zarvon finished softly, and he raised his hand, touching her chin gently, making her open her eyes and look at him with a gaze that no longer held fear, but something deeper.
"Tonight," Zarvon said, his voice softening, "I'm not a demon, and you're not a priestess. We're just two people who are thirsty. What do you say?"
Lysara bit her lower lip one more time, then nodded.
The candles on the altar went out one by one, moonlight streaming through the window, and the white robe fell to the wooden floor with a soft rustle.
Zarvon pulled her close, and for a moment she stiffened, then her arms wrapped around his neck, her fingers tangling in his hair. His hands slid down her back, feeling the warmth of her skin beneath the fabric, and she let out a small gasp when his lips brushed her neck.
"Your heart's racing," he murmured against her ear.
"Shut up," she whispered back, but there was no anger in her voice.
He laid her down on the altar cloth, the candlelight flickering in her eyes, and when he kissed her, she kissed back with a hunger that had been buried for years. Her fingers dug into his shoulders, pulling him closer, and he could feel the tension leaving her body with every touch.
Time lost meaning in that small chapel. There was only the warmth of skin against skin, the quiet sounds she couldn't hold back, and the way she whispered his name when she thought he couldn't hear. He made sure she was ready, that she wanted this, and when he finally took her, she gasped, her nails digging into his back, and he kissed her forehead, her cheeks, her lips, until the sharpness faded into something else.
Afterwards, Lysara lay beside him, her head on his chest, the robe now a makeshift blanket beneath them. She bit her lower lip again, a habit that made him almost laugh.
"You never told me your name," she said.
"Zarvon. You can call me demon too if you want. Up to you."
Lysara smiled a little. "Zarvon. Weird name. But nice."
The system chimed in his head.
[PURITY STOLEN. +200 PP. New skill: Aroma of Seduction.]
[Sister Lysara is now bound to you. Loyalty: 85%.]
[Mission complete. Next mission: Reach the capital. Find Lady Nyxara.]
Zarvon let out a breath, but his hand kept stroking her hair. "Sorry about that. The system kind of… pushed things."
"I know," Lysara said. "But… I wanted it too. I've wanted it for a long time."
Zarvon looked at her. "You realize I'm a demon, and what we did is a huge sin in your church?"
Lysara smiled wider. "I'm tired of being pure, Zarvon. Maybe it's time to be myself."
The system chimed again.
[Loyalty: 92%. Sister Lysara has joined your party. Role: Healer & Spiritual Advisor.]
Zarvon chuckled. "Welcome to the team."
---
Dawn came, and they walked away from the old chapel into the forest, Lysara now wearing a gray robe she'd found in the chapel's closet, her face still a little red when she remembered last night but her eyes more alive than before.
"Where are we going?" Lysara asked.
"The capital," Zarvon said. "Apparently there's a noble's daughter whose purity we have to steal."
Lysara stared at him, half‑shocked, half‑amused. "Seriously? So this is our job now? Stealing women's purity?"
"Looks like it." Zarvon took her hand, gripping it tightly. "But everyone we steal will become part of the kingdom we're building. Including you."
"A kingdom?" Lysara laughed. "We have a leaky chapel and a few goblins, and we're talking about a kingdom?"
"Every big kingdom started small," Zarvon said, smiling as he saw her excitement grow. "Trust me."
Lysara squeezed his hand back. "I trust you."
In the distance, beyond the morning mist, the capital's towers rose, hiding their next target.
[Nymphaearoot the Author]: Hope you enjoy reading! If you like it, please add it to your library and let me know your favorite moments in the comments